The Forest Where Yamada Saw Fireflies
by Winaru
Summary: On New Year's Eve, a twenty-something year old Hamaji returns home and finds his old classmate Sakura Momoko's diary hidden under the shoe cabinet in his home. Fifteen years had passed since Gr.3 Cl.4 (in which time Hamaji and all his 3-4 classmates had done a whole lot of growing up). Still curious to know what goes on in Maruko's mind, he flips open the diary and begins to read…
1. Home

The Forest Where Yamada Saw Fireflies

(One)

My name is Hamazaki Noritaka. No one has called me "Hamaji" in four years. Yet that's the first thing I heard when I stepped off the train at Shimizu station. True, it might only have been the squeal of the conductor's whistle or the screeching of the wheels when the train thundered off back to Tokyo, but it _is_ understandable right? I mean, I had finally returned to my home town. Shimizu-cho: the place of my childhood, the place where I spent the best years of my life! I had the right to be a little bit nostalgic, right?

The whole time on the train I was thinking of the perfect prank I could play on my brothers when I arrived home. I guess I could knock on the door and run away, I thought as I wolfed down my bento lunch box. Better yet, I could sneak in through an open window, roll out my futon and when they walked into my room (to make sure everything was neat and ready for when I got home) I would simply pretend that I had never left, that I was angry at them for overlooking me all these years.

That sounds pretty good, doesn't it?

But as my morning coffee wore out, I descended from that place above the clouds and flopped back down on my seat, returning to the person I had become. The train rumbled alongside the vast meadows and blue mountains. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass and watched herds of cows and horses zoom past us. My eyelids grew heavier the longer I gazed out the window. The blurry scenery had a drowsy effect on me and I quickly fell asleep.

When I woke up the train had stopped at Shizuoka station. I rubbed my eyes. It still seemed somewhat unreal. This would be my first time seeing my family in over four years.

What was more, I would also be reuniting with my elementary school classmates. I still met with Butaro and Sekiguchi once or twice every month so I knew that Butaro had not been able to break away from his habit of saying "buu" after every sentence. I also knew that Sekiguchi was dating a NASA scientist called Minami Hiroko. After Butaro told me the news (Sekiguchi had bailed on us that day), for the life of me I could not figure out how a guy like Sekiguchi managed to find such an intelligent girl like her.

"Remember how we used to think we'd never become friends with anyone outside the people in our class?" Butaro said slurping ramen into his mouth. "And we were so worried then because we thought everyone in our class was an idiot. Remember how we thought we'd end up marrying a girl in our class? I said you and Honami would make a great match but you insisted that Sekiguchi and Honami were perfect together. Guess in some ways you were right after all. I met Minami-san once. I thought she and Honami were incredibly alike."

But that's just Butaro and Sekiguchi. I had not heard from any of my classmates in a very long time.

Although whenever I met with Butaro and Sekiguchi they would share theories about what they thought Ono and Sugiyama were up to. Those two were the heroes of 3-4 after all and we were curious to know what had become of them. Did they achieve their dream of sailing around the world together?

And Sakura…

I massaged my temples. _That_ I'd rather not think about. It would be better if I didn't think too much about it. Especially as we were going to meet again very soon.

What would I say to her? I thought to myself. What would I say to the classmates I hadn't met in so long? My heart began to race a bit faster. I got to my feet and headed for the bathroom where I tidied my hair and straightened the collar of my shirt.

At last the train stopped in Shimizu station. I stepped on the platform and mistook a random noise for someone screaming my childhood nickname.

When I walked to my house my family was waiting for me by the door. My brothers welcomed me back enthusiastically as my mother embraced me tightly. "Go say hello to your grandfather," she said with tears in her eyes. "He's in the living room. He'll be so happy to see you." She cried.

The strong stench of incense filled the living room. I waved away some lingering smoke as I walked in and knelt down to pray before my grandpa's portrait.

"Ojii-chan…I'm sorry I'm late. You must think I'm the worst grandkid in the world. I'm sorry I thought you embarrassed me in front of my friends. You were the best old man in the world and I wish you could see how much I've grown…"

My mother walked in and knelt down next to me. "When are you meeting your old friends?" she asked, still teary-eyed.

"Not until after New Year's Okaa-san."

"Good. It'll be good for Ojii-chan to see the whole family eating at the same table again."

I smiled. At home there was no need to pretend to be strong. I sobbed aloud and threw myself into my mother's arms. "Geez I never thought I would miss him so much! I thought he'd always be around! The supporter for the swallow's nest he helped me make is still outside the house. How can he not be here anymore?!"

The sound of my cries was muffled by her warmth and my tears had stained the front of her apron. My brothers had returned to their rooms so I didn't need to worry they might see me.

"He'd be proud you know. You've done so well. I know I'm incredibly proud of you." She said.

In the afternoon I helped my brothers clean the house and change the papers on our sliding doors. We ate red bean cakes and drank green tea while watching a review of last year's _Red and White Singing Competition_. I hadn't watched this episode as I had been working overtime at the office around this time last year. Without Momoe Yamaguchi, the Red team was fighting a losing battle. There was no way they could win, especially now that 'Akikawa' had joined the ranks of the White team.

"Ah, the Red team hasn't won a single show without Momoe-chan. She was really the best female singer in Japan!" I exclaimed and once again felt drowsy from drinking the steaming tea.

"Haha, you're so old Onii-chan! Everyone knows that 'Yukko' _is_ the most popular female singer in Japan!"

"By the way Onii-chan, are you busy later today? Nobuo nii-chan and I want to play soccer with our friends in the park. Can you vacuum and mop the floors for us while we're gone?"

"Hm, I guess I might go to the shrine tonight but I've got nothing at all planned other than that…"

"So you'll help us then?" Those two egged on until at last I caved.

"Ah, what I bother! Why do I have to do so much work on the day I come back? You two better repay me for my kindness while I'm still here! Buy me a grilled squid tonight at the shrine festival or give me two thirds of your pocket money!"

One second they were still in front of me, the next they were stampeding like wild beasts down the hall. I sighed hopelessly and returned to watching TV.

I stared into the TV screen, thinking about all the shows I used to watch sitting in this very place. There was that 'psychic' show my grandfather and I watched together. We held up soup ladles and tried to break them in half using only the "great power of our minds"! Then there were all those stand-up comedy shows we loved to watch. I would imitate the actors and he'd laugh happily as I made a giant fool of myself. All of it happened right here, in this living room. I felt a pang of loneliness shoot into my heart.

When the competition ended (as expected the White team won), I asked my mother for a piece of cloth and retrieved a bucket of water from the bathroom. As a kid I almost never helped my mother with housework. Though I had to do my own cleaning in Tokyo I lived in a tiny apartment and so had absolutely no experience with wiping down a huge hallway all by myself. Rolling up my sleeves and pushing back my hair I got ready for the colossal task ahead of me.

I started off by the lavatory. Pushing the cloth with all my might and kicking my feet in the air to propel myself forward. But I 'propelled' too hard and bumped my head against the wooden shoe cabinet a step from the main entrance. "Tsk. It hurts…" I groaned, rubbing my forehead.

That's when I saw it. Something underneath the shoe cabinet caught my eye. I squeezed my hand through the gap that was as narrow as the slit in a mailbox and rescued whatever it was from the cold stone floor.

It was a notebook. The incredibly thin kind I used in elementary school for homework and class notes. Everyone in our class had one of these. As I kept misplacing mine there were probably over fifty notebooks like these scattered around the house. All of them with my name on the cover and my idiotic stick drawings on random pages. I stopped and blew away the dust.

"Diary..." I read aloud. That was strange. Did I really keep a diary in elementary school? I agonized over it for a few minutes. I couldn't remember… True, the handwriting didn't exactly look like my own either. I didn't believe in needing good handwriting to be a good grown up so I still wrote the same way as I did in elementary school.

I looked a bit more closely at the cover.

Beneath the characters for 'diary', was a name. The characters were messy, obviously written by a child who was no good in school. A kid who also hated helping out with housework, whose only hobbies were lazing about, watching TV and reading manga…

I read aloud each of the syllables. I read them out again. The third time I read them together faster.

My heart skipped a beat as I heard myself say:

_Sakura Momoko_


	2. Diary?

The Forest Where Yamada Saw Fireflies

(Two)

So, this _is_ Sakura's diary. I weighed the notebook in both my hands. The pages were damp and wrinkled due to years of neglect. Dust clung stubbornly onto the edges like furry gray spiders. I also spotted a small stain on the bottom right corner that was about the size of my thumb. An inkblot that looked awfully like a butterfly with misshapen wings, or even a pair of sandals placed side by side.

What do I do with it? I thought. If that had been a multiple-choice question handed to me in Togawa-sensei's class, it would've taken me less than a second to answer it.

**Q.** If you came across the secret diary of one of your classmates, would you:

**A.** Leave it where you found it and pretend you have not seen it;

**B.** Return it to its owner (or to your teacher);

**C.** Read it and give it back to its owner once you're done; no one is looking, no one will know.

If I was still nine years old, I would have circled 'C' in a heartbeat. Yet, as it was obvious to anyone (including me) that I wasn't a little kid anymore, I kneeled by the shoe cabinet for a moment longer, trying to decide what I should do. Everything I had encountered in my adult life urged me to choose B. In my heart I knew it was the right thing to do and I should hand it back to Sakura at our elementary school reunion without laying my eyes upon a single word.

But as the events of four years ago continued to haunt me, I wondered if there was another way to go about this.

Since this _was_ Sakura's diary, what if I could find _the_ _answer_ within these pages? At least a clue that could help me find the answer I've been searching for these past few years.

I wanted to know if my fate had already been decided for me in Grade 3. I wanted to know if I had a 0% chance to begin with.

Was I destined to lose right from the start, before I even had time to realize what I felt for her in my heart?

I squeezed my eyes shut, whispered a short prayer begging forgiveness to whomever would listen. As soon as I was done I briskly flipped the diary to a random page and slowly peeped open one eye…

This is what I read:

_"June 28, 1974_

_Manga…TV…Manga…Drawing…Ribon…Ah, I could do any of these things if I never told Okaa-san that we should write exchange-diaries! Why oh why was I such an idiot! I should have never tried to copy Tama-chan! Or at least chosen to start an exchange-diary with Ojii-chan or Obaa-chan because they wouldn't yell at me if I took an afternoon or two off from all that deep reflection! (And she still expects me to do my homework?! Does she think I have a magical Doraemon like Nobita-kun?! Idiot Okaa-san, pig-faced Oka-san! :[ ) They would give me more snacks instead of taking them away, saying "Oh, Maruko-chan, thank you for sharing your wonderful day with us. How lucky we are to have such a cute and considerate granddaughter! Here, have another red bean bun, or Ojii-chan can take you out for ice-cream. Which do you prefer Maruko-chan?"_

_Oh, was there ever a more unfortunate child than I, Sakura Momoko? Why did I think writing exchange-diaries would be fun? Ah, what have I gotten myself into?"_

Just one look-through and I had no doubt that Sakura had written this. The handwriting was even sloppier than my own! The grammar was awful and everything was written in Hiragana. I felt a paltry sense of pride glow in my heart, but thankfully I had resisted the urge to sneer. What right did I have to judge anyway? Although Yamada was always at the bottom of our class, I was always right next to him in second to last place. Sometimes Sakura or Sekiguchi would squeeze between us and I would get bumped up to third or fourth to last. But that spot of second to last was more often than not reserved for me.

I sighed forlornly and waved away the memories. I glanced around hesitantly to make sure that my brothers hadn't returned. The smell of Okaa-san's _osechi _and the faint sound of her footsteps drifted down the hallway.

"Ah, Noritaka, could you help me with something?"

I hastily snapped Sakura's diary shut and tucked it under my white shirt.

"W-What is it Okaa-san?" I yelled back, an irksome feeling in my stomach as the puckered edges touched my skin. Very similar to that which I felt when I used to cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors' to win an extra pudding cup at lunchtime. A thief's guilt, I guess. For all of the ten minutes the pudding tasted like it was the most delicious thing in the world. Then, catching a glimpse of Kosugi's starved and disappointed face or Yamane's painful expression as he clutched his belly tightly, I would also get a sinking feeling in my stomach and eventually decide that the pudding wasn't so great after all.

"Could you go to the market and buy me another bottle of soy sauce and a couple more spring onions?" She said, stepping into my shadow. "I also heard that toothbrushes are on sale at Mimatsu-san's store…Ah, and go check on your brothers, will you? Tell them it's time they came home for dinner!"

"S-Sure…Let me just go fetch my wallet…"

"Ah? It's ok I have some change here…"

But before she could finish speaking, I had already stumbled back inside my room. Impatiently, I slipped Sakura's diary into the bottom drawer of what used to be my old desk.

It felt strange calling this 'my room' as I had not slept here for four years. I would be returning to Tokyo and my tiny apartment in the bustling city in only a matter of days. In more appropriate terms, this was my brother Nobuo's room, and I was only borrowing it for the time being while both he and Nobuyuki, our youngest brother, shared the room our grandfather used to sleep in.

A poster of "Yomiuri Giants" sparkled on the wall directly above Nobuo's desk so he could gaze up at it whenever he needed inspiration. I stood there, staring at the glossy poster as I tried to remember who it was that watched over me many years ago when I was his age.

Folding a couple thousand-yen notes into my brown wallet, I headed back to the corridor and gaped at the sparkling clean floors. The front door slid open like a penguin on ice. I was shocked that the hinges didn't squeak; and it looked like someone had added a new layer of paint on the wooden frame.

"You forgot something," My mother insisted firmly the instant I stepped out the door. I double-checked the pockets of my winter coat, and confirmed that I was wearing warm gloves. I turned back to my mother with a searching look in my eyes.

"Itterasshai," she said.

Having lived by myself for so long, I had almost forgotten how refreshing it felt knowing someone was waiting for me to return. I scratched my head nervously and muttered, "Ittekuru".

Turning the corner I breathed in the air of the town of my childhood and continued toward the market with my head held high.

* * *

_Comments on Maruko's diary-entry for June 28, 1974 _

_To Maruko: First, __**diary entries should contain more than just complaints!**__ Please write a longer entry tomorrow and include some details about what you did during the day. __**Try reflecting rather than simply retelling the events**__. You say you're engaging in "all that deep reflection" but unfortunately I cannot find a single passage here or in all your previous entries that prove what you say is true. _

_Second, __**please pay more attention to your spelling and grammar!**__ A third-grader should know to use certain kanji words instead of relying solely on hiragana. _

_Third, __**I have already told Ojii-chan to not take you out for ice cream **__until I can see that you're taking this project more seriously. _

_Forth, __**please write more neatly! **__**I will not let you have melon and red bean cake**__ if your handwriting is just as messy tomorrow. _

_Finally, Maruko, __**you are not an "unfortunate child"**__. You have a roof above your head and food before you at every meal. Every member of this family is happy and healthy. __**Please stop complaining **__that you are an "unfortunate child" least this becomes true all too soon…_

_From your Okaa-san, Sakura Sumire, 1974/6/28_

* * *

Thank you for continuing to read this story~ Please leave a review if you liked this chapter ^_^


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